


Balthazar's Bottle of Macallan

by TorrieGrayson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Sassy, angel - Freeform, macallan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorrieGrayson/pseuds/TorrieGrayson
Summary: Balthazar misplaces his favorite bottle of scotch. Written using the prompt "I pray every day that no one should have a fate like mine."





	Balthazar's Bottle of Macallan

Balthazar had misplaced his favorite scotch nearly an hour ago—at least that’s when he’d found out it was missing. Really, you had finished it off days ago when he’d been gone. As soon as he found out, he’d started on one of his dramatic monologues, zapping himself around the house, looking high and low in cabinets and drawers for the bottle. You’d been through this with him a few times now, so you’d been tuning him out, reading your book until you heard him from another room sigh and say, “I pray every day that no one should have a fate like mine.”

You burst into laughter, unable to contain yourself, and causing him to teleport into the room you were in.

“What?” he asked, exasperated.

“I pray every day that no one should have a fate like mine,” you mocked him, laying the back of your hand across your forehead and lying back across the bed like a damsel in distress, laughing.

“Oh, is that funny?”

“Yes!” you started. “Goodness knows you of all angels, don’t pray to anyone. Let alone every day.”

Balthazar frowned at you, already tired of your antics.

You smiled, continuing to tease him. “Besides, what’s this fate you’re saving everyone from? Misplacing their whiskey?”

“Love,” his tone held a light warning. 

You just stared at him in response and he mumbled something under his breath about humans being a pain.

“Why don’t you just snap your fingers and ‘poof’ another bottle right into your hands?” you questioned, ignoring his insult to all humans.

Balthazar sighed. “It was a rare bottle of Macallan, at least fifty years older than you. Practically one of a kind. Well, 1 of thirty, actually.”

Immediately you felt a knot of guilt in your stomach. “Oh.”

“’Oh’ is right. I’m afraid anything I ‘poofed’ just wouldn’t be as good,” he said gravely. “Where the hell did I put that damned bottle?” Balthazar turned and disappeared in an instant. You could hear pots and pans colliding as he rummaged in the kitchen, then you heard something glass falling and breaking in another room.

Finally having enough, you thought his name, calling him back with a prayer. He was back in the room in an instant. His shoulders dropped when he saw you still reading on the bed where you had been a few minutes ago.

“Darling, please,” he begged. “I’m a little busy.”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” you warned. “Besides, I know what happened to your scotch.”

That got his attention. You got to your knees on the bed as he approached. You rested your arms on his shoulders, and he let his hands glide down to your hips. After placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, you said, ”Before I tell you what happened to it, I want you to promise me something.”

Balthazar let out a huff of air. “You drank it, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip, guilt written all over your features. “Yes, but I didn’t know it was rare or anything,” you said quickly.

Balthazar just rested his head on your shoulder. “If I didn’t love you…”

“But you do love me!” you cut him off. “And who’s fault is that? Hey, if it makes you feel any better, it was really good.”

“You are going to make this up to me.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed at how bold he was.

“Yes, really,” he smiled.

“How exactly, am I going to do that?”

“You’ll see,” he replied, kissing your neck as he gently pushed you back on the bed.


End file.
